


Of Desire and Fools

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Needs A Hug, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Meddling Sam Winchester, Sweetness, There were TWO beds, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: Sam makes Dean go on a solo trip with Cas. The mission: tell Cas about his feelings. The problem: his feelings. The other problem: there’s two damn beds.





	Of Desire and Fools

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE HUGE thank you to LeafZelindor for making this lovely artwork. She’s absolutely amazing, please check her out. This fic would not be the same without her friendship and patience

There were two beds. Perfectly enough to fit both of them. No reason to worry. Cas had done well. Dean couldn’t stop obsessing over it in his mind. Two. Beds. He couldn’t believe it.

The whole point of this solo mission with Cas was for Dean to finally man up and tell him his feelings. That was what Sam had demanded of Dean. No more excuses, no more watching Cas be affectionate with other people and getting crushed inside, no Sam or Jack to ruin the moment. Just Dean and Cas and the feelings that were a tether that kept Dean anchored to him. 

Two beds.

Castiel had readily agreed to this little detour. There was some wildlife preserve or whatever the hell that he wanted to visit in Colorado before they met up with Sam and Jack in Oregon to hunt a rugaru. 

“You have one week,” Sam had told Dean firmly as he helped him pack up the Impala. “I better see kissing, and held hands, and the whole lovey-dovey nine yards.”

“You wanna see us fuck too?” Dean had groused.

“The doe eyes are distracting and they gotta stop,” Sam said firmly. Dean’s ears had burned and he’d said nothing as he trudged off to go collect Cas. 

That had been just a day ago. It felt like longer. They’d barely stopped for a break as they made their way to Colorado so Castiel could see some stupid elk or something. The Impala was quiet. Just Cas and Dean and all the words Dean didn’t know how to say. How the hell were you supposed to tell an angel you were in love with him anyway? Dean was barely a blip in Castiel’s existence. How could his tiny feelings of love be anything compared to all the things Castiel had seen and would see. He was nothing. Nothing. Castiel pressed a hand to Dean’s shoulder in the kind of casual affection that made Dean want to die from longing. 

“Dean,” he’d said, “look.” They had been crossing a boring, flat plain. Dean squinted to find what he was supposed to be looking at. Little shapes, hundreds of them, moved in the distance. They got closer and closer as the car sped toward them. They looked like tiny deer along the side of the road. Except they were orange and white and their antlers were straight. 

“What are they?” Dean had asked. He couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. There were so many and they looked so peaceful and Cas was openly smiling at them and Dean loved his expression so much that it had to spill over into the little animals that caused it. 

“Pronghorn antelope,” Cas said around a gummy smile that was doing its best to make Dean’s heart thump a painful rhythm against his ribs. 

“They’re nice,” Dean said. It felt like the air in the car was trying to choke him. He did his best to keep steady and focus on driving. 

“Dean, your hands are shaking,” Cas said in concern. He covered Dean’s hand with his own. As if that would help. 

“M’okay, buddy,” Dean said. He knew he should shake Cas’s hand off, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Cas had nice hands. Large, dexterous, warm, heavy. Dean wouldn’t survive their loss. Not right now. He left Cas’s hand on his on the steering wheel. Cas wasn’t smiling anymore, but his face wasn’t unhappy either. If anything, it looked carefully neutral. Dean wished he felt like that, and not some desperate creature that was unhinged by his best friend  _ touching  _ him, for fuck’s sake.

The road was uneven, and each pothole they went over beat Dean numb. 

When they finally reached their no-tell motel, they were officially in Bumfuck, Colorado. The sun was setting and conspiring to paint the mountains ablaze. Dean and Cas were staying in a valley but Cas was right to want to come here. It was goddamn pretty. Dean couldn’t make himself say so, but Cas had no such qualms.

“Beautiful,” he said, all bright and warm and reverent. Dean ached at his tone. He cleared his throat. He shifted his weight and gravelly dirt crunches beneath his feet. The Impala, ever his security blanket, was several feet too far away.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Cas pointed to the jagged mountains surrounding them. They were thatched with proud green pine trees with little bright patches of aspens threaded through.

“They remind me of your eyes,” Cas said. 

“Patchy and fuzzy?” Dean said in mock offense. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Cas said the most uncanny things. Dean’s heart was racing again. There was no falling when it came to being in love with Cas. It felt a lot more like shattering. 

“No,” Cas said. He wasn’t looking at Dean but Dean could still hear the eyeroll in his tone. Dean smiled sheepishly at the back of his head. “Honest. Illimitable. Green as envy and sin.” Cas didn’t often wax poetic and never about Dean.

Shattering in love. Yeah, that was right.

“C’mon, Cas. We gotta get our room,” Dean said. Castiel turned to him. 

“I can manage. Get our bags out of the car,” he said. There was some extra grit in his voice. Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“You sure?” Cas didn’t exactly have the best track record with picking rooms, and Dean was sort of hoping to ‘accidentally’ pick one with a single bed. Dean’s heart clenched at the thought. Just one bed. Just sheets and Cas beneath them with him. Maybe, when Cas was asleep, he could ‘accidentally’ snuggle a little closer. Just so he could feel the heat from Cas’s skin. Just so he could have Cas’s scent in his nose to chase away the dark. Dean felt as though the air was being sucked out of his lungs. He’d never being so close. 

“I can get us a room perfectly fine, Dean,” Cas said. He narrowed his eyes like he always did when Dean was annoying him. Dean shivered. 

“Okay,” he said, raising his hands, palms out, in surrender. “I’ll get the bags.”

“Good,” Cas said, all easy command. Dean wanted to crumple under his gaze in the best way. He turned and walked toward the motel, shoulders straight, head high. Dean admired his rigid posture and internally lamented that the boxy trench coat obscured the shape of his body. Then, Dean went to the car. He sat in Baby’s front seat and carefully traced the steering wheel to steady himself. He inhaled the scent of booze and old leather. He pressed his head back against the headrest. 

Why was this so hard? Dean wanted  _ so badly  _ to ignore his feelings. It’s not like they mattered anyway. Cas was bound to reject him. He was just him and Cas was everything. He was the stars. He was endless and brave. He was kind and he preferred tea over coffee, but when he did drink coffee, he liked three sugars. He fucked up  _ so _ often but he meant so well. He was perfection. He was everything good in life crunched into one being. What would someone who was all of that see in Dean? And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Dean did love Cas. He loved Cas madly, and he wanted Cas to love him back. 

Dean hefted a breath. He felt scattered and shattered, but he soldiered on. He grabbed their bags and headed to the motel. Cas stood in the lobby and looked almost ridiculous because he was so out of place. Dean didn’t know how anyone could mistake him for human. Cas handed Dean a key card and accepted a duffle in return. 

“We’re on the second floor. There’s a diner that the hostess recommends down the street and there will be complementary coffee in the room,” Cas listed off. 

“Good work,” Dean clapped him on the shoulder because he couldn’t help himself. The ridge of Cas’s shoulder blade felt solid and warm. Dean felt weak and cold in comparison. 

“Let’s go unpack,” Cas suggested. Dean nodded mutely, still unable to form words. Cas lead the way up to their room, unlocked the door, and here they were. 

Two beds.

If Dean wasn’t sure he’d survive Cas being in the same bed, then he was done for having him across the room with no Sam and Jack shaped buffers. Cas was obliviously unpacking Dean’s clothes and folding them carefully with unpracticed fingers. Dean was in love all over again. He was still deliberating about the beds. What to do, what to do? Dean wanted to scream.  _ Why can’t you love me _ ? Why couldn’t he just snuggle right up to Cas right now? He wanted it so desperately. Hadn’t he earned it? He tried to focus on viciously putting his toiletries away in the bathroom. 

“Dean,” Cas said from the main room. 

“Yeah?” Dean called back, gripping his toothbrush so hard he was afraid it would snap.

“Are you alright?” Cas appeared in the doorway. His eyes were soft and concerned. Dean felt his guts twist.

“I’m good, buddy,” Dean said with a lot more bravado than he would have thought he could have mustered. He surprised himself enough to grant himself a mental pat on the back.  _ Good job, Winchester. Way to sound tons less desperate than you feel _ . 

“You’re lying,” Cas said. His eyes bored into Dean’s. Dean squirmed. Cas always could make him squirm in a way not even Sam could. His disappointment was palpable and Dean wanted to beg for Cas’s forgiveness. He looked so sad. Like he was disappointed but also upset that Dean didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Dean wanted to throw up. There was nothing,  _ nothing  _ on this earth that was worse than Cas’s face in these moments. Dean wanted to hug him or kiss him, make it all better. But it still wouldn’t be. Cas was too smart not to detect all the things Dean was keeping inside himself. And once Dean told him, and god would Cas make dean tell him, it’d be done. Dean wouldn’t have a best friend any more and as much as Dean knew he’d never deserve the likes of Cas, he’d never be able to live without him. Fuck, Dean didn’t want to  _ see _ a world without Cas with him. If this was all Dean could get, just a concerned look and terrible feelings bubbling up in Dean’s heart, well he’d just have to take it. He had no choice. 

“M’not lying, Cas,” Dean ground out. Now that, that was harder. 

“Dean,” Cas started again, this time with a grumpy little furrow in his brows. 

“Cas,” Dean said right back, frustration oozing into his voice. Couldn’t Cas see he was in  _ pain _ . Why did that goddamn angel always have to pick at wounds? Dean curled his fingers into fists and squeezed till his nails bit into the skin. Cas’s back straightened and his lips thinned. Anger tightened in his jaw. Dean’s heart deflated. A sick feeling eased into his gut. 

“I’ll be back. Perhaps I can find dinner,” Cas said. His voice was a careful monotone, but Cas couldn’t fool Dean. Dean knew everything about Cas and he always would. He’d know Cas blind, deaf and at the end of the world. Dean could hear the tightness in the gravel of his tone. Cas’s anger was as much as a surprise as it was a kick to the ribs when he was down. 

“You do that,” Dean said coolly. 

“Fine,” Cas spat. He turned briskly on his heel and left the doorway. Moments later, the motel door slammed shut. Dean’s stomach dropped. He was his own worst enemy. He left the toiletries where they were in the bathroom and sat heavily on one of them beds. He dropped his head into his hands. 

“ _ I fucking hate you _ ,” he said aloud to himself, his voice cracking and barely above a whisper. Pain pulsed through his chest. Goddamn this sucked. Why was it that Dean always managed to push people away when he needed them most? And this was people. This was  _ Cas _ . This was everything Dean had never allowed himself to have and everything he desperately and selfishly wanted. God-fucking- _ damnit _ .

Dean glared at the bed across from him. It was made nicely and the pillows were nicely plumped and Dean hated them. God how he’d hoped to get a single. Even if it ruined everything, he’d gladly trade the rest of his happiness for just one night with Cas. But it wouldn’t happen with two beds and it would happen if Dean kept pushing Cas away. Dean sighed heavily. He needed to man up, and not in the way his father had always told him to. Sometimes being a man didn’t mean just getting angry at the people you love. Sometimes it meant saying  _ I love you _ to the person who mattered. Dean presses his knuckles into his eyes till he saw stars, then removed them and blinked. He took a deep breath, than another. He could make this work. He could. 

X

Cas returned some hours later with two grease stained bags. The sky was black, illuminated only by the millions of tiny pinprick stars. Dean admired them for a moment before Cas firmly shut the door. His shoulders still had a stiff set to them, but he seemed calmer. Dean took it as a good sign. He handed a bag to Dean.

“Two bacon cheeseburgers and two fries,” he said. The bag smelled wonderfully and Dean’s stomach growled in hunger. Love confessions could wait. Dean tore into the food. 

“Thmnf ‘ou,” Dean said around a full mouth. Cas was munching away at his own burger, but his eyes crinkled at the sides. He swallowed with an involuntary sound of satisfaction. 

“You’re welcome.” He sounded like he meant it. Dean’s heart warmed. At least for the moment, they would be okay. Till Dean fucked it up again. Dean mentally shook himself. Now was not the time. They finished the rest of their meal in silence. And not the easy silences Dean was used to, either. Sam always bitched about sexual tension when Dean and Cas were quiet like this. Dean always said he never knew what Sam was talking about, but tonight was different. Dean could feel the tension, but it was far from sexual. The air between them was pregnant with anger and frustration. Dean felt longing with every single beat of his heart and he didn’t know what to do about it. 

God, but Dean wanted to reach for Cas. He wanted to pull him in tight and tuck his nose in the crook of his neck and kiss him. Christ. Dean would sell his soul to the worst crossroads demon in hell twice over just one kiss with Cas. Want roiled inside him. 

“Dean,” Cas said finally. 

“Yeah?” Dean asked. Random and stupid hope welled up. 

“Left or right?” Cas nodded at the beds. Dean’s heart stopped. 

“You’re sleeping?” He stuttered out.

“I thought I may read,” Cas replied. “Don’t worry, I won’t use a lamp and disturb you.”

“No, Cas, it’s just…” Dean trailed off, trying to gather his courage. This was it. He was going to do it. He swallowed thickly.  _ Man up _ , he told himself. Dean rubbed his palms together. They were damp with sweat. God, was Dean sweating all over? Jesus. He felt gross. He shouldn’t even ask. Shame lanced through him. 

“Dean,” Cas’s voice was gentle. Far more gentle than Dean deserved. “What do you have to say?” Cas was always so good to Dean. He knew how to cut through Dean’s panic. He knew how to make it all better. Dean didn’t deserve him. He never would be able to. 

“I wanted to book the room,” Dean blurted out. 

Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. 

“What?”

“I wanted to get the room.” A blush crawled up Dean’s neck. This was so  _ stupid _ . Cas would hate him after this. There was no way he couldn’t. An angel would never love a person. It’d be like trying to love a dust mote. They could be friends but…Dean shook his head. He started this, he’d have to finish it. And Cas...well he hoped they’d still be friends afterwards. It was all he could do. 

Cas’s lips thinned. Annoyance narrowed his eyes into squinty jet chips. “I’m perfectly capable of getting us a room. As you can see.” His voice was stiff. 

Dean was fucking this up again. 

“I know, Cas,” Dean said hastily. “I know. It’s just...two beds.”

“I’m aware,” Cas said dryly. 

“No! I mean. There’s two beds. I wasn’t gonna get us two beds,” Dean said. He scuffed his socked foot on the dingy carpet. 

“Is this about cost? I thought you and Sam hustled pool enough to cover this excursion,” Cas said. His eyes widened suddenly. “Did I spend too much on dinner?”

“No, Cas, when has cost ever mattered? There’s always someone who could handle a little money lifted off ‘em. This isn’t about money.” Dean wanted to laugh. God, he was so in love. Had anyone ever been as perfect as Cas? This goopy, syrupy feeling was terrible and wonderful at the same time. Dean thought he was going crazy. 

“Then what, Dean?” Cas arched an unimpressed eyebrow. For a moment, the lump in Dean’s throat became so large he couldn’t speak. The hollow in his chest deepened. This was is. This was where Dean Winchester, hunter and grade A dumbass, lost his best friend over something as stupid and selfish as what he had to say next. 

“I wanted to get a single so you and I could share,” Dean finally mumbled out. He held his breath. The tension in the room simmered and Dean almost wished hellhounds had come to drag him back. He’d rather spend an eternity on the rack than deal with this silence. He would rather be tortured than lose Cas. 

“Dean?” Cas said. His voice was breathy and soft, like when he saw a beehive or a particularly interesting tree. A rueful smirk tugged at Dean’s lips even as his tried to blink back tears. He loved the weirdo. 

“Look, it was stupid.  _ I’m  _ stupid, Cas but, fuck.” Dean couldn’t force himself to continue the thought. He stared determinedly at the floor. 

“Dean, I…” Cas began. “Sam told me being blunt with you would be best. He said you’re too obtuse to see things that are right in front of you.”

Dean looked up. Cas didn’t look ready to smite him. He looked as nervous and fidgety as Dean felt. He squirmed on his perch on the bed across from the one Dean was sitting on. The covers wrinkles under his ass. Cas’s eyes, though, were wide and soft. They looked like everything Dean had ever wanted. 

“Dean, I think this will ruin our friendship, but I don’t think I could bear it if I died and hadn’t told you…” Dean, with a courage he didn’t know he possessed, surged forward and kissed Cas. Cas stiffened for the briefest moment before melting against Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist, silenced the voices shouting in his head, and just felt for a moment.

Cas was solid and warm. His body radiated heat and Dean couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like spooned up to him. Cas’s lips were chapped, but plush nonetheless. It wasn’t like the women, Dean had kissed before, but it wasn’t  _ not  _ like them either. The stubble was the only difference, and when it scraped roughly over Dean’s equally rough cheek, he found he didn’t mind. 

Cas was an inexperienced kisser, but he certainly made up for it in charisma. He gripped at Dean’s back and tried to kiss him with abandon. Dean’s eyes slipped closed and he carefully climbed up to straddle Cas’s hips and sit on his thighs. He cupped Cas’s cheeks and felt their teeth clack unpleasantly, but pleasantly, because this was all so new and Dean couldn’t help but enjoy every second. Even if this moment was the only one he’d ever get, Dean was happy to let it stretch out. Just Dean and Cas. Just a nice, normal makeout sesh that Dean had been fantasizing about for a decade. Dean’s entire world was exploding with light. This was heaven. Bliss. Cas was all. All was Cas. 

They were all soft mouths and gentle hands. It was the first exploratory making out that Dean had ever experienced and honestly, he was beginning to understand the appeal. Cas massaged his hips and rubbed slow circles in his back and the kissing got  _ better _ . Cas was a quick learner. Dean smoothed his thumbs over both Cas’s cheeks. This was better than he ever could have imagined. This was better than any fantasy he had ever had. Ever. Nothing could compare to the real Cas. 

If he’d thought he’d been drowning in Cas’s casual friend touches, kissing was a whole other ocean. But the abyss of this one didn’t seem so scary. Kissing filled in the gaps that casual touches without meaning had made. Dean felt whole, alive. He felt that a decade of pining was worth it, even if this was his only chance. Christ, Cas’s tongue work was superb. 

Finally they broke apart. Cas was panting into Dean’s mouth, which was sort of funny, seeing as Cas didn’t need to breathe. He pressed his forehead to Dean’s. Their noses bumped. Dean began to laugh. He couldn’t stop it once he’d started. He was just too giddy. Cas began to crack up. Soon they were both clinging to each other, helpless against the belly laughs that needed to escape. The tension was released. Once Dean was coherent enough to really hear it, he fell more deeply for Cas upon hearing his laugh. Cas  _ never _ laughed. He just didn’t often get the joke, but this, this borderline hysterical we-just-kisses laugh, this was something rare and wonderful and Dean wasn’t sure he’d hear something like it again, so he savored it. 

Eventually their laughter died off. Cas was still smiling that big, gummy that Dean was so in love with. His heart rammed against his ribs.

“I think we might be dumbasses,” Dean said finally, hoping upon hope he was right. 

“Sam called me an idiot,” Cas offered helpfully. “He told me you and I had too much sexual tension and I needed to go on this trip with you to confess my feelings.” Dean huffed out a breath.

“Meddling bitch. He told me the same thing. I oughta knock his lights out,” Dean said without malice. At this point, he wanted to hug his interfering little brother. 

Cas chuckled. “Perhaps we ought to send him a fruit basket instead.”

“He likes rabbit food so much, I bet he’d love it.” Dean grinned. He gave Cas another kiss, chaste and quick this time. Cas’s lips were a little puffy and wet, but still Cas. Still an utter joy to kiss. 

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas said suddenly. Dean’s heart sank. This was the part where this was some elaborate trick. Dean wouldn’t live through it if it was. He couldn’t kiss Cas just once. He was addicted to him. To his bottled thunderstorm scent, to his laugh, to his lips, to everything Dean had yet to explore. God, he was such a love drunk loser and Cas was getting ready to tell him to fuck off. 

“For what, Cas?” Dean tried to keep the heartbreak out of his voice.

“For picking out the room. Really. I didn’t mean to overstep.” He looked so contrite. Dean nearly busted out laughing again. 

“I think we’re fine, Cas. It’s cool,” Dean said with a smile. 

“What do we do about the other bed?” Cas asked. Dean’s heart nearly stopped with the implication. Oh  _ fuck _ it was happening. 

  
  


“Uhh, put clothes on it?” Dean suggested weakly.

“I wouldn’t be fair if  _ no one _ slept on it,” Cas insisted. “We paid for it.”

“ _ I _ paid for it,” Dean corrected him. “I don’t know dude, it’s not that big of a loss. Really. I think the bed will be fine. May even enjoy having a break.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Cas said with a wry smile. 

“It’s a fucking  _ bed _ , dude.”

“It mattered to you earlier.”

“No. The  _ number  _ mattered. Because I wanna sleep in the same bed with you. Ya know, like couple stuff. I wanted to do that.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I don’t sleep,” Cas said flatly. 

“Do you cuddle?” Dean asked. Cas considered the question. 

“I’ve never cuddled.”

“Not even with April?”

Cas’s eyes narrowed immediately and his face scrunched up and okay, Cas was fucking hot when he was pissy. 

“ _ No _ ,” he growled.

“What about with me?” Dean had never felt so lost in his life. With women he picked up, he always had an edge. He could flirt and seduce and be funny and sexy, but with Cas he felt like a bumbling dumb creature with feet for hands trying to beg for an ounce of love. 

“I suppose we could try,” Cas said with a sly smile. His humor was rare and wicked and Dean had always loved his wit. 

“Let’s try, then.”

Dean felt awkward undressed in front of Cas, mostly because he’d done it many times before. Cas had seen Dean in his underwear a thousand times. This time was no different. Except it was. Dean and Cas had now kissed. There was a Dean and Cas now, whatever that meant. It was the first night. Labels would come much later. And they weren’t even having sex or anything. Just cuddling. Right? Dean didn’t want to fuck this up. 

Cas watched Dean hungrily. A blush burned Dean’s cheeks and stained his body patchily in red. He slowly pulled off his jacket. Then this flannel. His t shirt was old and worn and one quick and sneaky sniff of his pits told him it wasn’t dirty. Dean changed it anyway because he’d sweated and he couldn’t stand to think of sleeping next to Cas with drying pit stains, even though there weren’t any. Still. Gross. Carefully, Dean undid his belt and shoved off his jeans. He stepped out of them and his socks and tossed his pile of clothes onto the bed they wouldn’t be using. Dean almost felt a little bad.  _ Dammit, Cas _ . 

“You’re turn,” Dean said with a grin. 

Cas was clinical with undressing. He was quick and efficient where Dean had been clumsy. He shed his trench, jacket, shirt, slacks, socks, and shoes in under two minutes. It was a little impressive for someone Dean wasn’t going to have sex with. At least, not tonight. 

Dean gestured at the bed.

“Uh, shall we?” 

Cas went and turned out the lights. Dean pulled back the covers and slid inside and waited. The waiting was awkward. It was silent and not exactly tense, but not comfortable either. A change was afoot and neither Dean nor Cas seemed to know how to navigate the new terms of their relationship. Dean was okay though. He still got Cas in the end and that was enough. 

The bed dipped as Cas sat on it. He futzed with the hem of the covers. Dean rolled his eyes in the dark, a fond smile plastered to his face. 

“Just get in,” he said. Cas got in. He tugged the covers carefully around his waist and paused. He reached his hand out to touch Dean’s hip.

“Dude, the point of cuddling is body contact,” Dean mock-groused. He  _ felt  _ Cas’s eyeroll. 

“I’m familiar with the concept,” he snarked and in retaliation, curved his front rift against Dean’s back and smooshed his face in Dean’s hair. 

“Mph,” he said with a contented sigh. Dean agreed. Cas was warm and solid and safe. Dean couldn’t believe he got to have this. Cas and him in a bed. Dean didn’t ever want to be without him. Ever. Dean wasn’t even sure he’d get a nightmare tonight. He was cocooned in blankets and his angel.  _ Freaking awesome _ . 

“Cas? There’s still something I gotta tell you,” Dean said. 

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas rumbled against him. Dean felt all warm and fuzzy inside. “I know it’s difficult for you, Dean. I know. There’s no need for you to say it.” But there was. Cas sounded disappointed. Maybe a little hurt. 

“No, I do, Cas, because I’m gonna be awful at this. I’m gonna fuck up and push you away when I don’t mean to and I don’t deserve you at all, and I never will, but goddamnit, I do love you, Cas,” Dean confessed. He expected it to feel like an awkward chick-flick moment with Sam, but it didn’t. It felt good, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He was in love with Cas and Cas loved him back and they could say it. All the gooey couple shit. They could do it, and say it, and  _ be  _ it. 

Dean felt Cas kiss the back of his head. It was so gentle Dean barely felt it, but this was nice. He could be in a relationship and be taken care of for once. Cas had him. He was okay. This was nice and as good as Dean had ever felt. Sam would be proud. Dean smiled to himself at the thought. His smile turned into a wicked grin at all the possibilities of PDA he could torture his brother with when then reunited. For now there was time, the night, and a whole lot more exploring to do before Sam’s moose nose could stick its way into everything. There was time to figure all this goodness out. 

Dean snuggled back more firmly against Cas. He felt Cas smile into his hair. 

“Sleep, Dean. I’ll watch over you,” he said. Dean knew he would. And in the warmth of the bed and the angel, Dean succumbed to sleep and in the morning, whatever came next. He couldn’t wait. 

  
  



End file.
